Authors of Time
by Razo Imprie
Summary: When the timelines of five famous authors meet its up to the Doctor and Donna to put things right but when bonds are formed the authors start to doubt if they want to get home...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Start**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used in this fanfic but I do own the idea of this story.**

* * *

William Shakespeare was sitting at his desk trying to think of a brand new word for his new play. He needed a name for the witch. He'd decided to call the story the Tempest. He thought it struck a good impression.

Ok, back to the name. He scanned his mind and found it: Sycorax. The Doctor had mentioned it all those years ago. He had given up hope of ever meeting the Doctor, and more importantly Martha, again.

He bent down over his work and wrote "The Island had long been under the spell of a witch called Sycorax". He leaned back and sighed.

William was glad that he had the house to himself. His wife had gone up to London to visit her dying mother who had Typhoid.

He was just about to write the next line when a sudden gust of wind soared through the window and blew his papers everywhere. He cursed under his breath, it was going to take ages to gather them up again.

He bent down on the floor and no sooner had he picked the all up that another gust of wind blew them out of his hands. He didn't bother picking them up again because at that moment he realized that the wind was not coming from the window but from the ceiling……

….or what was the ceiling that was now a blinding white light. He craned his neck…..there was something moving up there…….

* * *

J.K Rowling was sitting at her computer answering her endless fanmail. The publisher house answered most of her fanmail and she was given about one tenth but she still had hundreds upon hundreds of envelopes to open, fanmail to read and reply.

She might as well get some of it out of the way. She grabbed an envelope at random and opened it.

_**Dear J.K Rowling,**_

_**You are the best author ever! Your books are simply the best! I love the fun little twists and turns you put in your books like Crookshanks being a kneazle! That was so clever! You really should write more books, maybe something with vampires like twilight which is second best only to yours!**_

_**Please write more books,  
Your #1 fan  
Michelle**_

'Geez! Why write a letter so short' she thought. She opened another envelope.

_**Dear J.K Rowling,**_

_**I think you're the best writer in the world! I love your books and I hope you write more. My**__** favourite**__** book is harry potter and the goblet of fire, but the bit with**__** Voldermort**__** is really really scary! My**__** favourite**__** character is**__** Hermione**__** cause she is smart like me. I wish quidditch was real. It would be so much fun! **_

_**I hope you write more books!  
From Grace (aged 7 ½)**_

J.K leaned back in her chair and sighed. She knew she wasn't the best author. Everyone ignores the great works of Charles Dickens, Jane Austen and William Shakespeare who's work is simply equiset! Teenagers and children always think of them as boring, old-fashioned rubbish! In a hundred years time they will be forgotten forever.

Maybe she could write a book that raises awareness that other older stories are just as intriguing and enticing! Teenagers read her books! They would realize that Twilight, Harry Potter and Mangas aren't the only interesting books.

She opened a word document on her computer and started typing:

_**Albus Potter was lying on the floor in front of the fire doing his homework for the holidays. His younger siblings were running about, squealing at the top of their lungs. Then the doorbell rang and he heard his siblings squeal "Aunt Hermione!!". He got to his feet and wandered over to where his siblings were hugging his Aunt.**_

"_**Hello Aunt Hermione" he said politely. As his siblings ran off again his Aunt hugged him and said "Albus, I have something to show you.".**_

_**She drew him over and took something on a gold chain out of her pocket. "It's a time-turner" she said. "It lets you go to the past. I had this one when I was your age because I was taking so many subjects but I trod on it and it is now a bit dodgy. You can have it if you like but you must promise not to use it for you could end up anywhere!"**_

_**Albus took it and said thank you and Hermione after having a word with his parents left. **_

_**Albus took it upstairs to his room and examined the time-turner closely. It was a little hour glass but it was cracked. It wouldn't do any harm just to try out the time-turner. It wasn't going to take him to the time of dinosaurs or anything dramatic like that. It probably wouldn't even work so he turned the hour glass three times………… and the next thing he was falling, falling down and landed hard on a compressed dirt floor. He looked up at the face of a balding man with a long beard…..**_

It was at this point that J.K realised that she could no longer reach the keyboard. She was floating up into the air. She looked up and instead of the ceiling she saw a blinding white light….

* * *

Jane Austen was walking along the cob her arms stretched out in a most un-ladylike manner. There was a fine sea spray making the Cob slippery. She pottered along daydreaming about her new novel, Persuasion. She had written that her characters had gone to Lyme Regis the night before…but what to write next?

It began to rain and Jane decided she had better get back to her hotel. The rain made the Cob slick and as Jane hurried down the steep stone steps she slipped and hit her head against the hard steps. As she was falling in unconsciousness she thought one thing, and it wasn't "Someone, help me!", it wasn't even "Ow…". No it was "What a great event for my novel!". Then she fainted.

* * *

**There you have it! The first chapter! For anyone who doesn't know the cob is a structure that pretruds out into the sea at Lyme Regis. I went there on holiday and saw the very steps! Pretty boring really! Please R&R! Next chapter up soon!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Start Part 2**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used in this fanfic but I do own the idea of this story.  
**

* * *

_**1**__**st**__** April 1870**_

Charles Dickens was sitting at his desk, about to begin rewriting the Mystery of Edwin Drood and the Blue Elementals. He had been meaning to do it since he met the Doctor and Rose three months ago. The elementals had almost ripped the entire world apart and it was he, Charles Dickens that figured out the way to stop them, and he was proud of it!

He bent over his parchment and wrote:

"An ancient English Cathedral Tower? How can the ancient English Cathedral tower be here! The well-known massive gray square tower of its old Cathedral? How can that be here! There is no spike of rusty iron in the air, between the eye and it, from any point of the real prospect. What is the spike that intervenes, and who has set it up? Maybe it is set up by the Sultan's orders for the impaling of a horde of Turkish robbers, one by one. It is so, for cymbals clash, and the Sultan goes by to his palace in long procession. Ten thousand scimitars flash in the sunlight, and thrice ten thousand dancing-girls strew flowers. Then, follow white elephants caparisoned in countless gorgeous colours, and infinite in number and attendants. Still the Cathedral Tower rises in the background, where it cannot be, and still no writhing figure is on the grim spike. Stay! Is the spike so low a thing as the rusty spike on the top of a post of an old bedstead that has tumbled all awry? Some vague period of drowsy laughter must be devoted to the consideration of this possibility."

He sat back and read over this paragraph. He thought it would captivate readers into the world of this new novel. He continued to write:

"Shaking from head to foot, the man whose scattered consciousness…"

But he got no further. He suddenly felt a pain like white hot knives in his chest. He hastily scrambled of the chair clutching his chest and gasping with pain. He staggered to his four poster bed and collapsed onto it.

He did not know whether it was one minute or one hour until the pain ceased but when it did he let out a sigh of relief. For one moment there he thought he was going to die. But he did not feel relieved for long though. For the pain returned and his vision blurred as he fell of his bed but he did not hit the floor…..

* * *

Agatha Christie was sitting in a surprisingly comfortable armchair re-reading her very first book, the Mysterious Affair at Styles, that she had written all those years ago. She put it down and sighed.

"I think it is time to create a new detective, completely different from Poirot!"

She went to her desk and put a new sheet of paper in the type-writer but she didn't write anything… not yet. Her mind went blank. She had no idea what this detectives name would be, what he/she looked like, what mystery that they were to solve!

She went into deep thought and she heard a voice that she recognised….but she didn't! The voice said:

"Like Miss Marple! The murderer doesn't suspect her because he thinks she's a harmless old lady…"

What a good idea! She knew that someone had mentioned it but it had been tucked away in her memory! She didn't know who wrote Miss Marple or even if it existed so she decided to go up to the library and see if Miss Marple was in there. She stood up and left the room.

While Agatha was walking up the stairs she came over all faint and dizzy. She clutched the banisters hoping that this bought of dizziness would pass…..but then there was no banister! She toppled over backwards and…

* * *

William Shakespeare's manservant was making his way up the stairs to see if his master was in need of anything. He opened the door of the study and was surprised by a sudden harsh wind. He stared at the scene in front of him:

William Shakespeare was sitting at his desk staring at the ceiling which was now a blinding white light. Then much to the manservant's surprise four people fell from the ceiling on top of Shakespeare. The manservant closed the door and went to have a lie down.

* * *

**So what do ya think? I know the Agatha Christie one is pretty shoddy but I had run out of ideas! Please R&R! Next chapter up soon!**


	3. Chapter 3: What Happened Next

**Chapter 3: What happened next**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used in this fanfic but I do own the idea of this story.  
**

* * *

Donna was sitting in the TARDIS library reading a book by Agatha Christie. She had always loved her books and when she met her last week......well, it was like a dream come true! This particular edition was published in the year five billion and had a vespiform on the front, the same thing that caused Agatha to have amnesia.

She put down the book and made her way to the control room where the Doctor was frantically running round the console pressing buttons and pushing leavers.

"What's up?" she said.

The Doctor let out a stream of words but the only ones Donna caught were "disturbance in time" and "emergency".

Donna said slowly and calmly to the frantic Doctor "You are forgetting! This is a time machine so we have all the time in the world. So you can stop your gabling and tell me what's happening!!",then she slapped him around the face.

The Doctor let out a gasp of pain and started to tell her before she gave him another slap. "The has been a connected disturbance in time in five different times and in five different places the centre of which I am trying to track now"

He turned back to the console and of the small screen a map of the world came into view.

"Okay….here we go…." Muttered the Doctor as he tried to zoom in.

"UK……England……Stratford Upon Avon………………………………………Oh oh!"

"What is it!" asked Donna.

"William Shakespeare's house, in a time when William Shakespeare was living in it!" he replied.

"And that is bad how…..?"

The Doctor gave her a 'look'. "We had better get there and see what's going on." He said.

* * *

As the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS he looked around and saw a heap of five people and he knew instantly who they were. The worlds five most famous authors were staring up at him.

Agatha Christie had a mildly confused expression on her face, William Shakespeare was laughing at the box that had just materialized in his study and at the man who had stepped out, Charles Dickens had a rather shocked expression, and J.K Rowling and Jane Austen were both wearing expressions of pure horror.

The Doctor surveyed the scene and only two words were in his head.

"Oh God"

* * *

**OK! That one was really bad but I had a head-ache from homework and I just couldn't write something good! Even though it was crap still R&R!**


End file.
